Love, Rory
by UrbanCowGirl
Summary: Rating may go higher. Just click it and read the set up, thats your summary. It's too long to put here.
1. Prologue

Love, Rory  
  
  
  
A/N: This story starts off way back at that fabulous little episode when Tristan gets sent off to military school. Everybody remembers that wonderful scene when Tristan is saying good bye to Rory, with Dean looking on in the background. Let's pretend Dean wasn't there. Make up any reason you like in your own head, or don't, I don't care. Either way, Dean was MIA that night. And I'm rewriting the dialogue. And I don't exactly remember the time frame that the episode was set in, so I'm going to make it at the end of sophomore year. If all that makes this AU, then so be it. Also, don't be fooled. This is going to be a future fic. Just be patient. So anyway, Enjoy!  
  
Feedback: They sent the memo today, Feedback is the new oxygen. Therefore, my survival depends on your clicking that little blue button at the end of the page.  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own shit. Though Tristan and Jess are constantly making their way into my dreams. *sigh* maybe I need to go back to bed :) They all belong to the wonderfully talented Amy Sherman-Whats-her-name and the WB. P.S to Miss Amy, BRING TRISTAN BACK!!  
  
Set Up: Tristan kisses Rory at the Shakespeare play that night when he wanted to. Tristan and Rory write to each other all through the summer, and Jr. year while Tristan is away, until suddenly Tristan's letters stop coming, for no apparent reason. Five years later, the summer after Rory graduates from Harvard with a journalism degree, Tristan comes back. Will there be a chance for their relationship to blossom now, without inhibitions? Or will an unexpected occurrence tear them apart for good?  
  
  
  
  
  
-- Prologue --  
  
  
  
As Rory stood there, in the dimly lit Chilton hallway, she was acutely aware of how close he was to her. His blue eyes taking in the sight of her where she stood nervously wringing her hands, and pretending to be immensely interested in her shoes. She took a deep breath, and finally worked up the nerve to shift her eyes to meet Tristan's.  
  
"Did you say military school, as in, you're leaving Chilton?" She asked anxiously.  
  
"That's the deal. You'll write to me, wont you Mary?" He asked, his eyes never wavering from her, a note of sincerity in his voice.  
  
"Sure... Of course..." She said quietly, confused at his request. She looked quickly back down at her feet, still trying to let what he'd said sink in.  
  
"I'll miss you Rory." He said softly. Her head snapped up at the sound of her real name coming from his lips.  
  
"He'll miss me? And here I thought I was nothing more than a game to him."  
  
"You'll miss me?" she asked cautiously.  
  
"Very much." He answered.  
  
"I'll miss you too, Tristan." She said, trying her hardest to muster a small smile.  
  
"Is he really being sincere?" She wondered to herself. "Did I really mean enough to him that he'd actually miss me?"  
  
"Can I, kiss you goodbye?" He asked slowly.  
  
She stares into his deep blue eyes for a moment. They've always held some elusive power over her, and now, at the thought of maybe never seeing them again, she allowed herself to be drawn in. She stared up at him, speechless; all she can do is nod. He smiled, and leaned in, putting his hand on the side of her face, and placing a soft, sweet kiss on her lips. She was mildly surprised to find that this kiss was nothing like the one they had previously shared. This kiss wasn't begging to go deeper, it wasn't sparked by the superficial environment, it was driven simply by the need to connect with each other, one last time. And connect they did. Rory felt that kiss deep into her very being, sending sparks flying through her body. This kiss touched her in a way Dean's kisses never had. When they broke apart, Rory saw a kind of vulnerability, longing, even sadness in his eyes. Real emotion flashed in the blue depths, and one word kept resurfacing in her head.  
  
"Maybe."  
  
"Don't forget me Rory." he whispered to her.  
  
"I wont." She whispered back. He smiled, and started to back away from her down the hall. She only stood and watched him retreat. When he reached the corner, he turned on his heel, tossing one last grin over his shoulder, and the last words she would her in his own voice for a long time.  
  
"Take care of yourself, Mary."  
  
"Bye Tristan." she whispered to herself as his tall, lean form disappeared around the corner. She let out her breath, and whispered again. "Maybe." She was suddenly aware that she was clutching a small piece of paper in her hand. She opened it up to find an address scribbled hastily on it. She concluded that Tristan had slipped it into her hand while he kissed her.  
  
* * * * * * * * * *  
  
As the months past, Rory and Tristan kept up a steady correspondence. Tristan grew to depend on her letters to keep him going, and busied his mind by constantly composing ones to write to her. Rory never missed a day checking the mailbox, and saved every letter she received. She had several shoe boxes, stuffed full. Through the letters, the two got to know each other on a whole new level. Rory learned that Tristan had a genuine personality under all that cocky arrogance and he never failed to make her laugh in his letters. Real humor that wasn't laden with sexual innuendo, though he did manage to slip a few in here and there. Tristan enjoyed hearing about her mother, and her town, and the love that seemed to be the essence of Rory. He loved every moment of his life now that he could call her his friend, and he worked very hard at pressing down the incessant desire to tell her his true feelings.  
  
The months of letters wore on, and Tristan found his every thought consumed by Rory. One day, when he picked up the mail carelessly tossed onto his lumpy mattress, a feeling washed over him that he had never truly experienced before. He loved Rory Gilmore. The longing in the pit of his stomach was ceaseless, and the slightest thought of her made him smile. And he was always thinking of her. Linking her in the most abstract ways to everything that happened. Always wondering what she was doing at any given time. That day, when he tore open and read her latest letter, inhaling the 'Rory scent' that always accompanied them, he realized his true feelings. He also realized what his father had warned him about since he was young. Tristan closed his eyes, and he could remember the conversation as if it had happened moments ago.  
  
"Son, I want to have a talk with you." Mr. Dugrey had called a young Tristan into the study.  
  
"Yeah dad?" the boy replied lightheartedly, dropping into a chair.  
  
"Son, you're a Dugrey. Dugrey's are strong; they can do great things. One day, you'll take over the empire that my father built in this town, and passed on to me. I want to pass it on to you, but you must be strong for it. You can't let anything get in your way. You have a shining future son." Mr. Dugrey lectured seriously.  
  
"Does this have a point?" Tristan had asked, rolling his eyes.  
  
"Yes it most certainly does." Mr. Dugrey replied. "I want to warn you about the one thing that can make you weak, the one thing that can stand in your way."  
  
"And what might that be?" Tristan asked in a sarcastic tone.  
  
"Love." His father replied simply. "Love will take you over, make you weak. Make you want and think and feel things you never have before. Love is for people who don't have a path. You have a path my boy, and love will block it from you."  
  
Tristan had never had much respect for his father. Not the way he ran his business or the way he ran his life. But none the less, he was still his son, and deep down inside, every son wants to please his father. With that lecture, Mr. Dugrey had managed to instill in his son a fear of love and the notion that if he were to fall in love, he would be disgracing the proud Dugrey name, not to mention disappointing his father. All Tristan had managed to do his whole life was disappoint his father. Military school had been his last shot to win back the love and respect he so desperately craved, and here he was, about to blow it all by falling in love. Tristan felt as if his heart was being ripped from his body. His emotions were warring within him. "What do I do?" he asked himself. "Please my father, or follow my heart?" He mentally slapped himself for being so cliché, and took a deep breath. He dropped Rory's letter into the box under his bed that contained all her other letters, and secured the lid. He crawled into bed, and waited for the lights to go out. They did, momentarily, and in the thick darkness of the room, filled with numerous other beds, and other boys, Tristan allowed the tears to fall. He knew he wouldn't write another letter to Rory, no matter what he felt. The desire to please his father was just too strong. As the tears ran, hot and salty down his face, he remembered something about Rory's letter that he hadn't allowed himself to dwell on before. It was the way she signed her letter. In all the months they had been writing to each other, it was the first time she had signed her letter, "Love, Rory" 


	2. Chapter One

Love, Rory  
  
  
  
A/N: This story starts off way back at that fabulous little episode when Tristan gets sent off to military school. Everybody remembers that wonderful scene when Tristan is saying good bye to Rory, with Dean looking on in the background. Let's pretend Dean wasn't there. Make up any reason you like in your own head, or don't, I don't care. Either way, Dean was MIA that night. And I'm rewriting the dialogue. And I don't exactly remember the time frame that the episode was set in, so I'm going to make it at the end of sophomore year. If all that makes this AU, then so be it. Also, don't be fooled. This is going to be a future fic. Just be patient. So anyway, Enjoy!  
  
Feedback: They sent the memo today, Feedback is the new oxygen. Therefore, my survival depends on your clicking that little blue button at the end of the page.  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own shit. Though Tristan and Jess are constantly making their way into my dreams. *sigh* maybe I need to go back to bed :) They all belong to the wonderfully talented Amy Sherman-Whats-her-name and the WB. P.S to Miss Amy, BRING TRISTAN BACK!!  
  
Set Up: Tristan kisses Rory at the Shakespeare play that night when he wanted to. Tristan and Rory write to each other all through the summer, and Jr. year while Tristan is away, until suddenly Tristan's letters stop coming, for no apparent reason. Five years later, the summer after Rory graduates from Harvard with a journalism degree, Tristan comes back. Will there be a chance for their relationship to blossom now, without inhibitions? Or will an unexpected occurrence tear them apart for good?  
  
  
  
  
  
-- Chapter One --  
  
Now what?  
  
It was a question Rory Gilmore asked herself frequently. Less than two months ago, she had graduated Harvard with her degree in journalism. She now lived in Boston, writing 200 word human-interest pieces for the Boston Gazette (a/n: Sorry, don't know any news paper names) that were always buried deep somewhere in section D. She hated her job. She always thought it was what she wanted, but it wasn't. All through college she had worked at a little hole-in-the-wall record store, but she quit it when her "Dream Job" came along. She loved that job, and at the moment it seemed to her like the biggest mistake she ever made was quitting it. Surely she could have written for the paper and worked the store.  
  
She tossed her pen onto the yellow legal pad in disgust. She was supposed to write about the new director of a local teen center, and she was only allowed two hundred words.  
  
"That's not an article, that's a blurb." She said aloud to the empty apartment. "A little tiny blurb... Four years of school to write blurbs!"  
  
"But you write them so well." A familiar voice said from behind her. Rory thought she would recognize that sarcastic tone anywhere. It belonged to her best friend, Jess Mariano.  
  
"How did you get in here?" She asked without turning around.  
  
"You left your door unlocked. You really are far too trusting of the outside world. Don't worry, I'll protect you!" He proclaimed, moving from the main room into the kitchen area of her apartment.  
  
"Jeeesss...." She whined. "My life sucks..." she got up and trudged after him. He was putzing around in the kitchen, digging through grocery bags that he had brought with him.  
  
"I know, I know." He said as she leaned on the counter and watched him. "That's why I'm here, to make it all better. I'm making you dinner." He informed her. Rory smiled at her best friend. She refused to think of him as her ex boyfriend, even though that's what he was. Even when they were dating, they had really been friends, just friends that would hug and kiss and touch. They still were like that really, but nothing was ever done in an intimate way. A kiss good-bye, a comforting familiar hug... They really were the best of friends, and neither of them would have it any other way.  
  
"I love you Jess..." Rory said in a baby voice, putting a little pout on her face.  
  
"I love you too Ror." Jess said as he turned to her and gave her a hug. "If you really don't like this job, just quit. I'm sure the owner of the record store would give you your job back..." he told her, and she could hear him smile.  
  
"You just think you're so cool, now that you're the big old boss man." She told him in an indignant tone. Jess had also worked at the record store for the last four years, along with Rory, and when the owner decided he wanted to retire, he gave Jess the store. The owner, Jack Mitchell, knew Rory had dreams, and bigger and better opportunity's in front of her, but Jess just seemed to shine in that store. Aside from his books, he loved music, and he loved the store. Jack wanted to help the boy get a break in life, so one day, he just gave Jess the keys and said simply. "You're the boss now." and that was that. Jess couldn't be happier.  
  
"I don't think, I know." He told her as he turned away from her and back to the stove. "Go write your article... dinner will be ready soon."  
  
"Mmm, dinner good." she mumbled at she headed out of the kitchen, grabbing a fresh cup of coffee on the way. She heard the pilot click twice on the stove, then-  
  
"Holy shit!" Jess exclaimed as a mini-explosion erupted from the stovetop.  
  
"What? What?" Rory called running back into the kitchen. She found Jess furiously swatting at his flaming shirtsleeve with a damp dishtowel, and the flames on the stove about 2 feet high. She reached over and turned off the stove, just as Jess was extinguishing his shirt.  
  
"When was the last time you used that thing?" he asked, turning back to Rory.  
  
"Uhh, never." she said sheepishly, then quickly changed the subject. "Did you get burned? Are you ok?"  
  
"I'm fine, just a little warm..." he said, and gave her a smile to let her know he was serious. "How bout we go out to eat." He suggested, eyeing the blackened, smoking dishtowel.  
  
"Works for me." she said.  
  
**Later that evening**  
  
Rory and Jess were comfortable settled across from each other in a booth at a diner just down the street from their apartment building. Rory and Jess lived in the same building, one floor apart. Jess' apartment was directly above Rory's. The little diner reminded them so much of Luke's, that whenever they went there, they couldn't help but talk about Stars Hollow, and the past.  
  
"Jess, I am so glad you're still my friend." Rory felt the need to gush. It had been nearly two and a half hours and the pair had successfully reminisced their two years together in Stars Hollow. As always, the conversation stopped just short of their freshman college year, when they had started dating. It wasn't that it was a bad experience, in fact it was too good. They both feared that if they talked about their time together as a couple, it would be all to easy to go back. They both also knew that a couple was not what they were meant to be, at least not forever. Their time as a couple was a chapter in their lives, one that helped them both grow tremendously, but one that they could only hold onto as a memory.  
  
Jess gave a little laugh, but gave into her game. "I'm glad you're still my friend too." He said, trying his best to put on his bored and indifferent face.  
  
"And you'll be my friend for ever and ever?" she asked, grin widening.  
  
"Sure..." He answered, monotone.  
  
"You're getting more and more like Luke ever day..." she said contemplatively.  
  
"Fine, I'll be you're friend for ever and ever. Happy now?" he rolled his eyes at her. "But I have to go close up the store, and I'm sure you'll want to go home and obsess over your two hundred word article some more." He said with a wink.  
  
"oh yeah you've got me so figured." Rory said sarcastically as he rose from the booth and dug some crumpled up money out of his pockets.  
  
"I'm buying you a wallet for Christmas..." she informed him, looking disdainfully at the handful of wadded up money he tossed on the table. "You can't even tell which bills are which. For all you know you could be giving the waitress a hundred dollar tip in there." She gestured to the money again.  
  
"You say this ever time we go out somewhere. Maybe you would like to start paying?" he asked her with a don't-look-a-gift-horse-in-the-mouth look.  
  
"Alright, alright." she conceded as she downed the last of her coffee and followed him out the door.  
  
Before they parted ways, Jess bumped her shoulder with his in a friendly gesture saying "good luck with your article."  
  
"Thanks." She said with a sigh as she headed back to her apartment. She walked a little ways down the street, lost in thought. She had this weird feeling inside, like something was missing from her life, but she couldn't put a finger on what. She looked up at the stars as she walked, thinking how it was so different from Stars Hollow to see just a shimmer of stars through the ambient light, rather than the whole sky ablaze with sparkling diamonds when  
  
*Smack*  
  
She ran headlong into a wall. A warm wall. A warm wall that smelled like a wonderfully familiar after-shave. She started to stumble backwards and the wall reached out its large hands to catch her by the shoulders and pull her upright again. Instinctively, she reached out and grabbed hold of the wall for support. She looked up into the deep blue eyes that were looking back down at her.  
  
"You ok?" the wall that was really a man asked her, concerned.  
  
"Tristan?" 


End file.
